


Baby Hotline, please hold (me close to you)

by crosspin



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Engineer Sokka, FBI Agent Zuko, M/M, clown to clown communication, clown to clown conversation, jet is the worst, rated t for language and mention of attempted use of a roofie, sokka exposes aunt wu's essential oil pyramid scheme, toph said acab
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25097560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crosspin/pseuds/crosspin
Summary: “And could you please verify your current relationship status? We need it for, um…” Zuko scrambled for an explanation and, unable to come up with anything halfway convincing, finished weakly, “tax purposes.”“Oh, me? I’m single. Very single. Single as a Pringle. But not like a Pringle in a thing full of other Pringles. I’m like, the last lonely Pringle at the bottom of the can.”Zuko is just a simple FBI agent trying to run a background check on Sokka, an engineer who's applied to work for the government, but Sokka's chaotic past is making the process...complicated. Still, Zuko doesn't mind too much as long as it means he can talk to the weirdly charming stranger at the other end of the line for as long as it takes for him to sort all those complications out.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 166
Kudos: 1636





	Baby Hotline, please hold (me close to you)

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Mention of prevented attempt at assault using a roofie (one character sees a drink being spiked and ends the situation before it escalates further).
> 
> EDIT: [This fic now has FANART!](https://icelandsboots.tumblr.com/post/623845857203257344/hello-icelandsboots-here-after-many-many-many) Please check out the incredible drawing by my incredible friend, icelandsboots!

“Hello?”

“Good morning. Could I please speak to Sokka?”

“This is Sokka.” 

“Great. Sokka, my name is Zuko, I’m an agent with the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and I’m following up on a background investigation – ”

“ _Ohhh._ Oh, this is good. This is really good. Did Aang put you up to this?” 

Zuko paused in his memorized introductory spiel. “Um, Aang?”

“He gave me _so much shit_ when I applied for this job. Said I wouldn’t even make it past the interview stage. Well, look at me now! _Conditionally hired!_ I knew he couldn’t stand being wrong – that’s why he hired you, isn’t it?”

Zuko blinked. Subjects did occasionally mistake him for a prank caller, but they weren’t typically so brazen about it. “No, no,” he told Sokka, “No one hired me. Well, the federal government did. To investigate you. That’s why I’m calling – ”

“Damn, Aang must have really forked it over for this one because your voice is sexy as _fuck._ What’s your day job? Phone sex operator?”

Zuko turned red. Not that the man on the other line could see him. “Um, no. Federal law enforcement, actually. My name is Zuko, my badge number is 7072, and I need to set up a time to interview you – ”

“Oh sure, suuure you do. A quick Google search will expose you, don’t worry.” The voice on the other end got quieter as, Zuko assumed, Sokka put his phone down to perform said Google search. “I’m sure your IMDb will be easy enough to find. Or your OnlyFans. What did you say your name was again?”

“Zuko. Badge number 7072.” 

Zuko heard the loud clacking of a keyboard and waited for the inevitable moment of realization. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, _shit._ ”

“Yeah.” 

The voice was suddenly sheepish. “Um. Wow. You’re – you’re really FBI. It’s just that my friend, he, um, he would totally do this sort of thing, you know, and – well, you, um – I – ” He trailed off. “Why exactly are you calling again?”

Zuko sighed. “You applied for a job with the federal government. That triggered a background investigation to make sure you’re suitable for employment. I need to do a follow up interview to go over some of the answers you gave on our questionnaire.” There was silence. “You _did_ apply for a job with the federal government, didn’t you?”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Sokka said quickly. “And I filled out that background check form thingie and everything. I just didn’t realize a real, live FBI agent was going to be calling me.” He laughed nervously. “You gotta understand, the only time my phone ever says ‘No Caller ID’ is when I’m getting prank called.” 

“I see,” Zuko said. Well, he didn’t really see – he’d never been on the receiving end of a prank call himself – but he believed Sokka. “Well, as you said, I’m a real, live FBI agent and I need to do a phone interview. Are there any days or times this week that work best for you?”

“Hmm. Not really. I’m just waiting around for this job to start, so any time works.”

“Great. How about…” Zuko trailed off, scrolling through his Outlook. “Friday at noon?”

“That should work, let’s see…oof, just remembered that’s when I agreed to a fencing match with my neighbor, so that’s not gonna work.” Zuko opened his mouth to suggest another time, but Sokka interrupted him. “Kidding! I can reschedule that. Friday at noon is perfect. Putting that into my calendar app as we speak.” 

“Great. I’ll give you a call then. Good luck with the rest of your application process.”

“You too!” A beat of silence. “Wait. Shit.” 

Zuko laughed and hung up the phone before Sokka could correct himself.

* * *

“Hello?”

“Hello, Sokka, this is Zuko.”

“Zuko! Hi! How goes it with you?”

“It…goes…well,” Zuko said slowly as he formulated the grammatically correct response. “How are you today?” 

“I’m great. I had a snack, printed out my resume so I can keep track of all the qualifications I lied about – I’m kidding! Don’t write that down in your report.”

Zuko rolled his eyes. 

“Point is, I’m in my PJ’s, I’ve got my Frappuccino, and I’m ready to talk as long as you need.” 

“Great.” Zuko scrolled through the answers Sokka had inputted in his questionnaire, starting with the basics. “First, can you verify the job that you’re applying for?” 

“Engineer with the Department of Energy,” Sokka answered proudly. “I’m gonna be helping develop hydraulic power for widespread use in transportation. It’s insanely cool shit. It’s what I did my thesis on.” 

“So…water-powered cars?” Zuko translated. He’d been a political science major out of necessity (the necessity being that Zuko never take another math class after graduating high school) so he had major respect for people like Sokka who had a handle on this sort of thing. 

“That’s the goal! Cars, trains, planes, pretty much anything that uses fuel.”

“You’re right, that is pretty cool.” 

“Right?” 

Zuko scrolled down to the “Education” portion of the questionnaire. Sokka had a degree in mechanical engineering from MIT and a masters in applied engineering from Cal Tech. That definitely made Zuko raise an eyebrow. It was rare for someone with that kind of resume that to be applying to work with the federal government – typically the Ivy League types were funneled straight into well-paying private sector jobs in the lucrative defense contracting industry. That Sokka was willing to take such a steep pay cut to certainly said…something. 

“How are you liking SoCal?” Zuko asked conversationally. A little FBI interrogation trick: get the person talking early on so they’re more likely to be honest with you when you start asking tough questions later in the call. 

“Oh, I absolutely love it here. But, as you can imagine, I’m broke as shit, so I can’t really afford to live here anymore. I’ll miss the beaches for sure, but not paying $4500 a month to live in a cockroach-infested yurt with five roommates and no parking spot.” 

Zuko laughed. “That sounds about right.”

“You ever lived in California?” 

“When I was younger. My family lives out there. Haven’t been back for a long time, though.” Zuko didn’t elaborate as to why he hadn’t been back to see his father, an executive producer with a mansion in Beverly Hills, quite literally since the day he’d graduated high school. Going around swapping “Adverse Childhood Experiences” was definitely NOT an approved interrogation technique. 

“So is it any better? Living in D.C.?”

Zuko had to chuckle. “Well, if it’s predatory rental rates you’re avoiding, you’re coming to the wrong place. But most people don’t live in the city anyways. We all live in Maryland or Virginia and commute for a few hours to get to work, and then we just tell everyone else we live in D.C.” 

“Oooh, that’s good to know. I’ll keep that in mind when I’m surfing Zillow.”

Zuko smiled. Sokka seemed to be in a pretty good mood, so Zuko picked up the card on his desk and began to read directly from his script. “Alright, Sokka. ‘I will now ask you a series of questions. Each of these questions requires a yes or no answer. If your answer is no, I will move on to the next question. If your answer is yes, I will ask another series of questions to determine whether you are still eligible for employment. It is important that you are completely truthful when answering these questions. Any indication that you have been dishonest may result in disqualification from the hiring process. Please confirm that you understand.’” 

“Wow, okay, yeah, understood.”

“Now, these questions can sound a little funny,” Zuko warned him, switching back to his normal voice, “but I have to ask them. Usually most people’s answers are just no to all of these, so I’m just going to try to get through them as quickly as possible.” 

“Okay. Got it.” 

“Great.” Zuko read the first question that appeared on his screen in quick monotone. “‘Have you, or has anyone you know, ever been involved in a terrorist attack against the United States or another government official?’” 

There was a pause. 

A really, really long pause. 

Just as Zuko opened his mouth to ask if the call had dropped, Sokka answered. “Um, I know you said I had to answer with a yes or no, but…is there an option for ‘it’s complicated’?”

Zuko felt his jaw drop. He clicked the box for ‘yes,’ internally a little intrigued. He’d never gotten a yes to that question before – weirdly enough, most terrorists weren’t applying to work as engineers for the Department of Energy. Or, if they were, they were smart enough to lie about being terrorists in the first place. 

“Um, wow, okay,” Zuko said. He read the next prompt that appeared on the screen. “‘Please explain the circumstances of the incident.’” 

“Right. Okay, well, here’s the thing. When I was a freshman in college, my friend hit me up and asked me to build a ‘mobile fireworks dispenser.’ You know, like a little remote-controlled car that could shoot fireworks out of the top. You can picture it, right?” He didn’t wait for Zuko to answer before babbling nervously on. “She told me it was because I was the coolest member of the robotics team. In hindsight, I’m pretty sure it’s because I was the most _gullible_ member of the robotics team. I mean, she’s blind, she can’t even see fireworks! But how was I supposed to know she was going to roll it out at her next protest and aim it at the cops?” 

Sokka groaned. “Long story short, I wasn’t even _there,_ but some cop got his pantleg singed and made a big stink about it. My friend got arrested and I got hauled in for questioning. They were yelling at me and telling me I was going to get charged with domestic terrorism, but I cried enough that eventually they just let me go with a warning. So there’s nothing actually on my record, just burned into my memory. And I have never built anything for Toph ever again – at least, nothing involving explosives.”

Zuko absorbed Sokka’s words in silence. Very slowly, he went back to the question, unclicked ‘yes,’ and clicked ‘no.’ 

“Thank you for your honesty.”

“I hope that won’t affect my application! That’s the only time I’ve ever gotten in any trouble with the law, I swear!” 

“That’s not for me to decide, but I think you should be fine,” Zuko told him. “Moving onto the next question now. ‘Have you, or has anyone you know, ever been approached by a foreign entity to aid in a plot against the United States?’”

This time, Sokka laughed. “Thankfully, no. At least, not that I know of.”

The rest of the questioning was as uneventful as it was supposed to be. Reaching the bottom of his list, Zuko said, “Alright, those are all the questions I have for now. But just so you’re aware, sometimes things come up in the investigation and we have to do a follow up. If that happens, you might get another call from us. So if your phone rings, and it says ‘No Caller ID’…”

“Don’t accuse them of running an OnlyFans account. Got it.”

Zuko smiled. “Exactly.” 

“Quick question – if there is a follow-up, will you be the one to call me?” 

“Yup,” Zuko told him. “I’ve been officially assigned to your case, so if there’s an issue, you’ll be hearing from me.”

“Yay! Well, wait. I mean, I hope there aren’t any issues, but it would be nice to hear from you again.” 

Zuko didn’t quite know what to say to that. He felt himself blush again – somehow the voice at the other end of the line tended to have that affect on him. 

“I…also hope there will be no issues.” 

“Yeah, you’re right, it would be kind of stupid for me to sabotage my own background check so I could keep talking to my own personal FBI agent.” 

“I…yes, I would have to agree with that.” 

Sokka laughed. “Well, if I don’t get a chance to talk to you again, it’s been nice knowing you. Maybe we’ll run into each other someday in D.C.!” 

Zuko smiled at the thought. Somehow, he figured he’d be able to pick Sokka out of a crowd even without ever seeing the man’s face before. “That would be nice.”

“Right?” 

“Take care, Sokka,” Zuko said, completely genuinely, which was something that rarely (if ever) happened during these calls. 

“Byyyyye, Zuko!”

* * *

“How dare you mention that name to me?” 

“I – ” Zuko didn’t know what to say to the furious, screaming woman on the other end of the line. Unfortunately, angry phone calls were a pretty frequent part of his job, but they were still extremely annoying to deal with. Zuko was more surprised that someone could have such a strong reaction to hearing the name “Sokka.”

“So – so are you saying you would _not_ recommend him for the position?” 

“I would absolutely not! I suggest you throw his application in the garbage where it belongs. I should have done the same.” 

“Um, okay.” Zuko didn’t explain that there was no paper application for him to toss in the garbage even if he wanted to. He checked the box for ‘no’ under the question ‘Would the former employer recommend the subject for hiring?’ “Can you at least verify that he was your employee for the time period of – ”

“I’m not verifying crap, and if you want any more information from me you’ll have to speak to my lawyer!” 

The line went dead. 

Zuko sighed and checked the box for ‘no’ under ‘Did the former employer verify employment?’ That brought up another prompt, a text box with the title ‘Subject’s explanation?’ 

So he would have to call Sokka about this. 

Zuko was…not unhappy about that. 

A few clicks through the portal and Zuko had pulled up Sokka’s number again. He dialed it in to his corded landline and listened to the line as it rang a few times. After not too long, someone picked up. 

“…Hello?”

“Sokka? This is Zuko. From the FBI.” 

“Oh my gosh. Zuko! I’m so happy to hear your voice again – Wait, does this mean there’s an issue?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Okay, give me one sec to get to a quiet place.” Zuko heard rustling and Sokka’s faraway voice as he said to someone, “Sorry, FBI’s calling me again. Yeah, the hot one. Umm, I don’t care, just kick me off the edge a few times so you can get the kills and then switch me to a CPU.” 

There was more noise in the background and then the sound of a closing door. Sokka’s voice was loud and clear again as he said, “Okay, sorry about that. I’m good now. What’s up?”

Zuko looked over the information Sokka had typed into his application. “Alright, so you indicated that you worked for a company called ‘Aunt Wu’s Essentials’ for about two months, is that correct?”

“That’s correct.” 

“Well, I just got off the phone with Ms. Wu and she…” Zuko hesitated, wondering how to put this delicately. “She declined to recommend you. Or even verify your employment.” 

Sokka let out a big-bellied laugh. “Oh my god. Oh, I love that. What did she say exactly?”

“Um…Something about throwing your application in the garbage and that I should talk to her lawyer…”

“HAHAHA.” Sokka was in stitches at the other end of the line. “SHE WOULD. Fuck, that’s classic. I love it. I’m getting that on a sticker.” 

Sokka wasn’t exactly acting as spooked as Zuko might expect for someone who’s chances of employment might well be over. “Whenever that happens, we like to give the applicant the opportunity to explain why that might be. So…care to explain?”

“Sure, sure,” Sokka wheezed, getting the last of his giggles out. “Oh my gosh. Okay. Wow. Well, I applied to work for ‘Aunt Wu’ the summer after my sophomore year in college. She’d put up an ad in the career center saying she was looking for a marketing intern, and I was willing to do basically anything to avoid working in my dad’s tackle shop for another summer, so I applied. It seemed like a reputable company. I mean, I’d heard of Aunt Wu’s Essentials before, I’m sure you have too.” 

“Yeah, I have,” Zuko admitted. Aunt Wu’s line of medicinal herbs and essential oils were well-known nationwide as cheaper, less extreme versions of existing medical treatments. Quite a few of Zuko’s co-workers absolutely swore by her methods. 

“And you know, making medicine more affordable, giving fewer pills to kids, it seemed like a great cause, so I was all in.” Sokka sighed. “But all of that was total bullshit. I watched her make that stuff. She’d add one drop of lemon juice into a bottle of water and call it aspirin. Or say that eating one tablespoon of basil a day would cure your depression. Like, _total_ scam. People would go to this lady instead of going to a doctor, and instead of real medicine, she’d just send them home with a jug of onion-banana juice. That’s straight-up unsafe.” 

“…Wow.”

“And that wasn’t even the worst part. Aunt Wu’s Essentials wasn’t actually a company, it was a pyramid scheme. And my job wasn’t marketing, it was cold-calling random moms on maternity leave and asking if they wanted to make a little extra cash as a side hustle. It was awful. Super predatory. Oh, and by the way?” Sokka laughed. “Her name isn’t even Wu, and she’s not even Asian. Her real name is Karen, and she just pretends to be Asian because she thinks it makes her seem more exotic. So in addition to being a quack and a predator, she’s also a racist who basically lives in yellowface 24/7.” 

“Wow,” Zuko said again. But still, none of this explained “Aunt Wu’s” reaction from earlier. “Okay, go on.” 

“Right. So basically I figured all this out my first week there. At first I just wanted to quit, but then I realized I would still have my whole summer left with no internship, so I decided to stay instead and make it a little more interesting for myself. I mean, what better way to tear down her empire than from the inside?” Sokka’s voice had turned mischievous. “So, I set up a secret reddit account and started posting about her. I was allowed to take unlimited samples, so I did a bunch of experiments on myself showing that the meds didn’t work, or even worse, they were actually harmful. Like this one facial cleanser that made me break out for weeks, or shaving scrub that literally burned my leg. It was worth it in the name of science, though,” Sokka said matter-of-factly. “I also posted a bunch of secret recordings of her. There was one video in particular of her – she was convincing this one lady to take out a second mortgage on her house so she could afford to buy more product to sell – that one really blew up.”

Sokka sighed happily. “Man, I felt like such a vigilante. My posts were getting thousands of upvotes, the FDA was opening up an investigation into her, and I really thought it would be the end of her career. But one day she came in, screaming about how she was going to sue me so hard I’d be in jail for the rest of my life – which, I don’t think that’s actually how that works, but okay – and that I was fired. Sadly, the social media campaign lost a lot of steam after that, and nothing ever came of all my investigative work.” 

“That is…wow,” Zuko said for a third time, because he couldn’t really think of anything else to say. 

Sokka’s voice turned a little defensive. “Look, I know I’m supposed to say that I learned from the experience and I regret my actions, blah blah blah. But I don’t regret my actions. She’s a horrible person and she deserved to go down. I’d do the same at any job. And you can write that down in your report, I’m not ashamed of it.” 

Zuko was stunned. No subject had ever said anything like that during one of these calls. Zuko spent his days listening to applicants who minimized and pandered, not applicants who admitted to sabotaging their past employers and then essentially told him “I’d do it again.”

“Thank you for your honesty,” Zuko said, typing a few notes into the explanation box. 

“Of course. And thank you for asking. I love that story, haven’t gotten to tell it to anyone for a while.”

Zuko smiled. “It is a good story.” He was about to add something else, but – 

“HANG ON, I’M STILL ON THE PHONE,” Sokka screamed in his ear. “Oops. Sorry. They’re starting another match soon. Did you have any more questions for me?”

Zuko cut himself off. “Nope, not right now. But I’ll call you if anything else comes up.”

“I would love that,” Sokka said, and Zuko could hear the smile in his voice. “Well, I wouldn’t, but like, I would.”

“Right.” Zuko smiled back. “Me too.” 

“Okay, have a good day Zuko!” 

“You too.” 

“ALRIGHT, I HOPE NONE OF YOU ASSHOLES TOOK YOSHI OR I’LL – ” Thankfully for Zuko’s eardrums, the line went dead. 

Zuko spent the rest of the day feeling unusually, unsettlingly happy. He wasn’t quite sure why.

* * *

A few weeks later, Zuko’s supervisor plopped a thick file onto his desk. Zuko read the name on the front with confusion. 

“Is this a mistake? I’ve already called this guy twice.”

“Not a mistake. He updated his information, and we found another issue with his application.” 

Zuko sighed and opened up the folder to see what the problem was. Apparently Sokka had put down a new address, which had resulted in another error message in the “Places of Residence” portion of his questionnaire. 

Zuko turned to his phone and found that he could dial Sokka’s number from memory. He supposed that was to be expected after calling the man so many times. 

“…Zuko?”

Zuko couldn’t help but smile at Sokka’s delighted tone. “Yup, me again.” 

“Wow! I was kicking myself thinking about how I’d probably never hear from you again. Fate keeps pulling us back together, huh?” 

_Fate, and your unique ability to sabotage a federal background investigation,_ Zuko thought, but instead he said “I guess it does.”

Zuko pulled up Sokka’s information through the portal on his computer. “I saw you just moved to D.C., that’s great. How are you liking it so far?” 

“I love it! I feel like I’m taking my eighth-grade field trip all over again, but it never ends and there’s no teacher knocking on my hotel door and telling me to stop jumping on the bed. I spent two whole days just walking around the Smithsonian and looking at all the planes. So freaking cool!” 

“You came here at a good time. The weather’s been pretty nice lately.” 

“Yeah, it has! Not as humid as everyone made it out to be.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be more humid than you can stand soon enough.” Zuko read over the new address. “The neighborhood you’re living in is nice. I’ve driven through there a few times.”

“Um…” Sokka sounded panicked. “How do you know what neighborhood I’m in?” 

Zuko rolled his eyes. “I kind of know everything about you. Which is like, the whole point of this.” 

“Oh, right, I forgot. FBI agent and all. It’s easy to forget because you’re so friendly.” 

Zuko felt himself blush. ‘Friendly’ wasn’t typically a word people used to describe him. 

Sokka went on. “So you live nearby?” 

“Yeah, I live a town away, but I spend a lot of time in your area.” 

“That’s cool! Well listen, my kitchen utensils haven’t showed up yet and I’m basically living off Postmates, so if you have any food recommendations I’d love to hear them.”

“Hmm…” Zuko thought about it for a second. “There’s this great tea shop near you. It’s called the Jasmine Dragon. It’s not really good for meals, but they have great pastries and desserts. But if you decide to eat there, don’t order out. Eat in. The ambiance is half of what makes it so great.” Zuko neglected to mention that the owner was, in fact, his _uncle,_ which was why he spent so much time in Sokka’s neighborhood to begin with. The recommendation was deserved, and he didn’t need Sokka thinking he was just being biased. 

“Wow, that sounds great, I’ll have to check it out. And I’ll definitely eat in.” 

“You’ll love it.” 

“Since you recommended it, I’m sure I will,” Sokka said earnestly. Zuko felt himself smile involuntarily. “So, what did I do this time?”

Oh. Right. The background check. The whole reason they were talking in the first place. “Yes. Um. So, when you updated your address, someone noticed a mistake in one of your previous answers. It looks like…” Zuko scrolled down to the problematic field, which was outlined in red. “For the first three months of your master’s program, for ‘address’ you just wrote ‘technically homeless.’ Which, that’s not – I mean, you have to input an address, so I don’t even know how you were able to submit this.” Zuko looked at the entry and shook his head. “So, um, care to explain?”

“Right. Well, what happened was, my girlfriend dumped me right after we moved to California together. I didn’t really have time to find a new apartment, and I wasn’t gonna keep living with her because, well, that would just be awkward, so I just crashed rent-free on my sister’s couch until I could find my own place. The good thing was, eventually her boyfriend took pity on me and added me to his lease, because his place was basically empty all the time, because he spent basically every night with my sister, which was starting to get even more awkward than living with my ex. So, it was a win for everyone.”

The world _girlfriend_ made Zuko’s chest turn cold. He only barely tuned in to the rest of what Sokka was said. He couldn’t hold back a strange rush of…of _disappointment._ Yeah, that’s what that horrible feeling was. Disappointment. 

“So, um, should I give you her address?” 

Zuko snapped back to reality. “Yeah, why don’t you do that,” he answered. 

Sokka told him. As Zuko typed the zip code into the address field, he heard himself ask another question. One that was most certainly _not_ on his list. 

“And could you please verify your current relationship status? We need it for, um…” Zuko scrambled for an explanation and, unable to come up with anything halfway convincing, finished weakly, “tax purposes.” 

“Oh, me? I’m single. Very single. Single as a Pringle. But not like a Pringle in a thing full of other Pringles. I’m like, the last lonely Pringle at the bottom of the can.” Sokka chuckled. “I haven’t had any action in years. Weirdly, no girls seem to be interested. No guys, either.” 

_No guys._ The phrase rang through Zuko’s head. So, did that mean that Sokka might be into that sort of thing? 

“What about you?” 

Sokka said it so casually, it took Zuko a second to understand what he was asking. 

“Oh, me? I’m…single too. Single as…” Zuko trailed off. As usual, nothing witty came to him, and he let go of any hope that he might trick Sokka into thinking he was funny. “Just, single.” 

“I see. It’s the bachelor life for the two of us, then, isn’t it?” 

“I guess.” 

“Well, don’t worry. I can tell you’re a great guy. You’ll find someone no problem.” 

Zuko didn’t know what do say. “Um. Thanks.” 

Sokka sounded suddenly hesitant. “Was that a weird thing to say? I’m sorry, it just came out. That was probably kind of unprofessional of me.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Zuko said quickly. “I meant it. Thank you.” 

“Anytime.” 

One of Zuko’s co-workers was waving him over from across the office, and Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance when he remembered that their mandatory two-hour Excel training workshop had started five minutes ago and he was going to get put on probation if he missed another one. 

“Sokka, listen, I have to go. But it was…it was really nice talking to you today.”

“Oh. Really?” Sokka sounded disappointed. “Okay. It was really nice talking to you, too.”

“Have a good – ”

“Wait.” Sokka sounded urgent. “If this is the last time I get to talk to you, I just wanted to say…”

Zuko’s heart pounded hard in his chest as he waited for Sokka to finish. 

“Um…actually, never mind.” Sokka said finally. “Just, take care of yourself, okay?” 

Zuko wanted to probe further, but his supervisor had started yelling his name across the room. “Okay,” he said simply, and hung up the phone.

* * *

Zuko wasn’t even surprised when Sokka’s name turned up in his mailbox again a few weeks later. He was actually a little…happy? 

Yeah. Happy. Thinking about Sokka made him happy. 

“What now?” he asked his supervisor. 

“Substance abuse questionnaire. There were some concerning answers there.” 

Zuko furrowed his brow. Sokka hadn’t seemed like the drug-using type, although it wasn’t unheard of with these creative engineering types. 

The electronic form showed that Sokka had checked ‘no’ to use of marijuana, Adderall, Ritalin, all the usual suspects that showed up on dozens of applications on a daily basis. But Sokka _had_ checked ‘yes’ to 'Use of a Narcotic Without a Prescription,' and in the field labeled ‘Name of Substance,’ Sokka had just written ‘unknown.’ 

That _was_ concerning. Who did drugs without knowing what they were? Zuko’s friends at the DEA had told him before about “punchbowl parties,” where idiot kids would mix together prescription drugs in a bowl and ingest a handful at random. Was that what Sokka meant? He didn’t seem the partying type, but Zuko supposed anything was possible. It wasn’t like they actually knew each other, much as it felt like they did. 

He dialed Sokka’s number without even thinking about it and listened as Sokka’s phone rung once, twice, three times, longer than it had ever taken for him to answer before. Just when Zuko was afraid of getting sent to voicemail – 

“Please, please, _please_ tell me this is Zuko.”

Zuko smiled. He couldn’t help it. “This is Zuko.” 

“OH MY GOD. You have _no_ idea how happy I am to hear from you. I really thought last time was actually going to be the last time. I was starting to miss you.” 

That made Zuko feel oddly touched. Sokka went on, “But, then again, you’re calling with more bad news, right? What is it this time?” 

Zuko cleared his throat. He didn’t quite know how to broach the issue. “Well…listen. We got back your drug use questionnaire. And you…you wrote that you took an unknown narcotic without a prescription. So, that raised a red flag for us.” 

Sokka was quiet for a minute. Then he let out a laugh – not a happy laugh, though. One that was tinged with just a hint of bitterness. “Wow. That was all the way back in high school. I didn’t know you guys looked that far back.” 

“Yeah, we do,” Zuko said. “This doesn’t disqualify you automatically, but I’m still going to need to put down an explanation about the incident. So, do you…do you have an explanation?”

There was a pause, and then Sokka sighed. “Sorry. Yes, there’s an explanation, I just need to compose myself a little, because remembering that night always makes me a little pissed. More than a little, actually. Just – hang on a second.”

“It’s okay,” Zuko said automatically. “Take all the time you need.”

After another few moments of silence, Sokka began. “Okay. So. It was when I was eighteen. My sister was sixteen. We went to high school together. And one night, she got this idea in her head that she wanted to sneak out and go to this giant party that was happening in our town. Not really my scene, but I didn’t want her to go alone, so I went with her.” 

Sokka paused to take a breath and exhale it again. “There was this douchey senior guy she had a major crush on at the time. He had this, like punk-slash-farmer aesthetic. You know the type, right?” 

Zuko decidedly did _not_ know the type. “Sure,” he lied. 

“Well, anyway, I always got bad vibes from him. My sister said I was just being an asshole, but my Spidey senses were tingling. So, much to her annoyance, I basically followed them around the entire night while he was trying to get her alone. They were probably both about ready to kill me. But then I saw it – when my sister was – ”

Sokka stopped and took another deep breath. “Sorry. I just really fucking hate that guy. While my sister was yelling at me to beat it, I saw him slip something in her drink. That disgusting, _legal fucking adult_ slipped something in my _sixteen-year-old sister’s_ drink.” 

This story was not going where Zuko thought it was. 

“So I called him out on it. Obviously. And he denied it, and my sister got even more pissed and told me to go home. So I did what any good brother would do – I grabbed her drink and I chugged down the whole thing myself. I think they were too shocked to even react.”

Zuko was too. 

“So _then_ my sister dragged me out into the front yard to yell at me some more. I don’t remember much of what happened next, but apparently sometime in the middle of her rant I passed out right on the sidewalk – hit my head _super_ hard – and the next thing I knew I was home in bed and my dad was yelling at us both for sneaking out without his permission. But when my sister ran out of the room crying, my dad pulled me into this massive hug and thanked me for protecting her and I realized he was crying too, and then we were all crying – it was all super emotional, and…yeah.”

Sokka seemed to remember who he was talking to. “Sorry, I kind of rambled on a little bit. Is that enough of an explanation?”

“Y-yes,” Zuko stuttered, still a little stunned. “Thank you for telling me all that.” 

“Moral of the story is, 0/10, would not intentionally roofie myself again. But in that moment, it was the best plan my singular brain cell could come up with.” 

Zuko laughed. “No, I think that was a great plan.”

“You do?” 

“Totally.” 

“Soooo, is that all you needed from me?”

“Yup, that’s all I needed. I think you should be fine,” Zuko told him. “And, honestly, there have been so many follow-ups in your case that I’m guessing your file will be closed pretty soon.” 

Zuko tried not to think about how glum the thought made him. 

“Oh…really?” He didn’t sound too happy either. “That’s…that’s a bummer.”

“…Yeah.” It wasn’t – it meant Sokka could start his new job soon – but why did it feel like it was?

They were both quiet for a little bit as Zuko put off the inevitable hang-up for as long as he could. Just when he was about to say goodbye, he heard Sokka whisper something through the static. Something that sounded a lot like “ _Fuck it._ ” 

“Zuko…listen,” Sokka started. “There’s – there’s a lot more random crap in my file that you haven’t even asked me about yet. I kind of have a feeling you’re probably going to come up with more questions. And talking over the phone is just so awkward, and old-fashioned, and you live so close by, so I was thinking, why don’t we…um, why don’t we just meet up in person and bang it all out over a cup of tea at the Jasmine Dragon?” 

Zuko swallowed. 

He’d never done something like this before

It would violate every Bureau protocol. 

But it was _Sokka._

“Yes,” he said softly. 

“ _Yes?!_ ” 

“Yes.” Zuko was smiling now, so hard that his face was hurting. 

“Wait, um, just to be clear,” Sokka said quickly. “This has nothing to do with the background check. I just really want to take you out on a date. Is that okay with you?” 

Zuko thought about it. “They’d have to find a replacement agent to take over the rest of your application process. Conflict of interest and all.”

“That’s fine with me. I’m kind of sick of talking to you over the phone anyway.”

“ _Hey!_ ” 

Sokka laughed, hard. “Oh man. My friends have been telling me to do this since the first time you called me. I figured it would be inappropriate – I mean you’re at work at and all – but now I’m like, kind of addicted to the sound of your voice and I’m dying to know if your face matches. So I kind of just thought…”

“Fuck it.”

“Right! Fuck it! And by the way, can I have your real phone number? So next time I can be the one calling you?” 

Zuko laughed and gave it to him. Not a moment later, Zuko got a text from an unknown number. No words, just an image. He unlocked his phone to open the message. 

It was a selfie. The dark-skinned man in the picture was winking at the camera and holding up a peace sign, with his white teeth bared in a massive grin and his hair tied back into a ponytail. 

Zuko turned red. Sokka was… _reallyfuckinghot._

“What do you think?” Sokka asked. Then, when Zuko was _still_ too tongue-tied to respond, he asked a little more nervously, “Did I scare you away?”

Zuko laughed at the possibility. “No, I – ”

“ZUKO!” 

It was his supervisor. “Do I need to write you up for using your cell phone at work?”

“Uh, no, sorry,” Zuko said, clicking his phone screen off again. 

“Get off the phone and meet me in my office.” 

Zuko sighed. “Gotta go,” he said remorsefully to Sokka. 

“Noooo,” Sokka moaned. Zuko laughed and hung up the phone. 

Before he stood to follow his supervisor back to the corner office, Zuko unlocked his cell phone again and snapped a quick picture. He hit “send” and then shut his phone down, ready to face whatever punishment he was in for. It wasn’t until a few hours later, when he clocked out of work for the day, that he powered his phone back on and saw what Sokka had written back. 

It was just one message, accompanied by approximately thirty emojis. 

_HOLY FUCKING SHIT YOU’RE HOT._

* * *

[About a month later, Zuko woke up in Sokka’s bed to an email from work. It was a notification that Sokka’s file had finally been marked complete, with just one remaining question. 

_Would you recommend this applicant for employment?_

Zuko smiled and checked ‘yes.’]

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely based on true events. Hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> If you didn't click the link at the beginning, please take a second now to [appreciate the incredible fanart of this fic](https://icelandsboots.tumblr.com/post/623845857203257344/hello-icelandsboots-here-after-many-many-many%22) by my amazing friend, icelandsboots!
> 
> Title from Baby Hotline by Jack Stauber.
> 
> If you want to read a similarly ridiculous getting together fic, check out my quarantine haircuts Roommate!AU, [Cut to the Feeling.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25147093)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Baby Hotline, please hold (me close to you) [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27140818) by [Rionaa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rionaa/pseuds/Rionaa)




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